


Sly

by ravingLimey



Category: Original Work
Genre: Based on a True Story, Childhood, Nonbinary Character, Old work, Prompt Fill, Theft, absolutely not autobiographical, high school assignment, nonbinary pronouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 07:31:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2613494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravingLimey/pseuds/ravingLimey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written a year or two ago based on a prompt in Creative Writing.<br/>Prompt: A kid takes a small seashell out of a jar at a friend’s house.<br/>Not a seashell, but I don't need to take those from people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sly

**Author's Note:**

> Corneille is pronounced like kòrnëï kor ney ee or something. the L is silent.  
> i wanted weird names like harry potter sounding shit so i just mashed words and names and it came out stupid  
> pronoun choice was to reaffirm my gender and as an exercise. went through several sets before settling on these ones.

Thieves portrayed in the media were always caught easily. Ruth Kittergin was found when she didn’t wear gloves. Everyone knew the first rule of being a thief: wear gloves. Henri Daffenschitzer had left his load at the wrong drop-off. Most knew the twelfth rule: double check with the boss. There were about a pamphlet’s worth of rules, but few knew them all.

Corneille Spatbucks was among these few. They never pulled big heists or tried being Nic Cage in National Treasure. Shiny things were nice, but those never really interested them as a target. Trinkets were more up their alley.

Their favourite memory was when they pocketed a crystal. Corneille’s mom was friends with their friend’s mom. When the mothers went off to talk, the kids sprinted to the friend’s room.

He had many things they didn’t. A TV, Xbox, NERF guns, an easel, plushies; the goods. Deep down inside they knew that they would eventually have these things, (and they did in years), so no matter how frothingly jealous they were internally, they didn’t even try to take his toys. It would be too noticeable. How would they even carry an Xbox without getting caught? Not to mention the console by itself would be useless without the cables, controllers, and games. Too much work for some stupid console. They had a gamecube, anyway. Their brother said it was his, however, but that was only one of the many uncorrected behaviors he acted upon his sibling.

Burying these feelings, Corneille played a few rounds of Street Fighter. Then they were bored, so they decided to have a pillowfight. When bored of that, their friend grabbed a crystal from his dresser, put it in the middle of the two of them, and pretended they were Romanies, or ‘gypsies’ as they called them in their unintentionally racist child minds.

The crystal was a chunk of quartz, a small palmful of glass. It was clear except for where it had been cracked off the main stone of the quarry. The melted reflections of light around the room twisted in the quartz. As soon as Corneille found out their true love, (it wasn’t until almost twice their age that they realized that they were aromantic, and that they didn’t need a romantic relationship, but if they had one it was fine, but they still didn’t need one), their mom called saying it was time to go.

The kids shoved the blankets and pillows back on the bed. He said he had to go to the bathroom, so he left his quartz in a little bin in front of Corneille.

When he came out of the bathroom he would go straight to the foyer. He wouldn’t know his crystal was gone until it was too late.

Corneille clasped the crystal and put it at the bottom of their hoodie pocket.

* * *

 

Years later, they still had it. A year after years later they lost track of where it was.  Actually not entirely, they had an idea about the general vicinity of the mineral but they was too lazy.

Yes, Corneille Spatbucks, the great thief, although not as great as the Yatagarasu, Carmen Sandiego, Nathan Drake, Masque✰DeMasque, or Catwoman, was lazy.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Things that are true:  
> I took a quartz crystal from someone's house. He wasn't my friend, our mothers just knew each other from a rubberstamping group online. I didn't like that house. The children were older than my brother. They didn't like me. I don't even remember the names. Maybe one was Robert? We didn't play video games. I don't remember what was at that house. My age was one digit when this happened.  
> My brother abused me. Aggressive territoriality was minor for him. He's hit me with a metal bat and vacuum cleaner, threatened to shoot me over a wireless adapter, and I still flinch when I hear the B-word. Dad said he didn't know my bruises weren't from the woods. Mom didn't say anything. He doesn't hit me anymore, hasn't in years. I'm alright, my living situation is safe. Message of the day: DON'T BEAT YOUR FUCKING SIBLINGS.  
> Do I regret stealing? No.  
> Would I do it again? No.  
> I've had my fun. Lifting's lost its luster.


End file.
